


Kiss Me Because You Want Me

by ZealouslyMinki



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale (Good Omens) - Freeform, Beelzebub loves Crowley, Beezie the fly, Crowley loves Beelzebub, Dagon (Good Omens) - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Female Pronouns for Beelzebub, Female Pronouns for Crowley, Fluff, Gabriel (Good Omens) - Freeform, Male Pronouns for Crowley, Past Beelzebub/Gabriel, they get married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:00:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23320588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZealouslyMinki/pseuds/ZealouslyMinki
Summary: Crowley has been in love with Aziraphale for thousands of years, only to be rejected when Aziraphale falls in love with Oscar Wilde. He never would have thought that such a harsh rejection would lead to his happy ending with Beelzebub, his Lord of the Flies.TW: Miscarriage, mentioning of suicidal thoughts, murderous intent, panic attacks, holy water burning/scars
Relationships: Aziraphale (Good Omens)/Oscar Wilde, Crowley/Beelzebub (Good Omens)
Kudos: 22





	Kiss Me Because You Want Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [overused_underrated](https://archiveofourown.org/users/overused_underrated/gifts).



> Stemming from the beginning of alicerovai ‘s Victorian Omens au (on IG) and written for my lovely partner overused_underrated, who needed some softness. I’m glad you liked it, my Starmaker 💕
> 
> This story has art from berrytera on IG, as soon as I figure out how to upload that I’ll add it in.

-1886-

Crowley hunched over the sink in his bathroom, tears falling heavily as the events of an hour ago ran through his head. How could he be so stupid to think Aziraphale would choose him? It was a false hope, demons didn’t deserve hope. Choosing a mortal over him though? It was a blow to his _pride_ as well and it nearly gutted him with the grief of it all. 

“I could kill him, I could kill that mortal in ssseconds and then- then what, would he want me then?” Crowley lowered his head and let out a sob, too caught up in himself to hear his door opening. 

When he looked up again, he felt his insides go cold when he saw none other than Beelzebub, his terrifying boss, in the mirror watching him from across the room. There was a hint of sympathy to her eyes and Crowley tried to pull himself together as he watched her come closer, “M-My Lord, what a dissshonor. I’m-“

“Behind on your report for the month, izz what you are.” Her tone went from calm to worried, “You’re never late on your temptations, talk to me.”

Crowley turned around and sucked in a breath. He took off his glasses and just eyed the demon before him. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek braid that was pinned into a bun, she must have grown it out since the last time he’d seen her. Her normal suit had been traded for a black gown with red strings to her corset on the front There was a bow just at the bust, bright red like the sash she usually wore with her suit. She was stunning in all of her glory, could rip him to shreds for being late if she wanted to and yet she was choosing to ask about his day. What had he done to deserve the kindness? What did she see in him that Aziraphale didn’t? She’d always been fond of him, he wondered if maybe…

He didn’t stop himself from walking over to her and reaching out, carefully gripping her arms before he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers with as much conviction as he could muster. He wasn’t going to wallow in his pity alone, no he wanted someone to take charge of him and use him like he deserved. Then maybe, just maybe, he could work on getting over Aziraphale. He felt Beelzebub stiffen under his touch before she melted into the kiss, putting her hands on his chest and it was just enough for Crowley to take that as a green light. Beelzebub wouldn’t do anything she didn’t consent to, she made it known what she wanted.

He let his hands wander, feeling the smooth material of the front of her dress and sliding up to gently caress her chest. He felt her inhale a bit shakily so he pulled back from the kiss and grabbed at the bow on her chest, ready to pull it undone when her hands came up and grabbed his wrists gently to stop him. He frowned and stilled instantly, taking in her flushed face with confusion, “Did I do something wrong?”

Beelzebub inhaled sharply before shaking her head, “No, you didn’t. But we aren’t doing thizz here, not like thizz.”

Crowley pulled his hand back and rubbed the back of his neck, “Not like this? Right, I’ll change forms then. I didn’t know you favored women-“

“Crowley.” Her voice had more heat to it now, the sounds of flies behind her words had him swallowing in a bit of distress. He’d made her angry, he must’ve and that realization had him shaking a bit. Beelzebub eyed him again before she stepped into his space, her dress swaying as she moved. She cupped his cheek tenderly and he leaned into the warm touch, feeling undeserving of the gesture yet touched starved all the same. It made his eyes water when she spoke, “You’re upset and you deserve better. It would be taking advantage of you to take you like thizz and I deserve better than to juzt be a quick fuck. Zzo-“ She ran her thumb soothingly over his cheek, wiping away the wetness dripping from his eyes, “Lets go sit and talk, tell me what hazz you all worked up and maybe I can help.”

Crowley let her take his hand and guide him from the bathroom. His home wasn’t cluttered, he had a few chairs made of cowhide and blankets made of soft fur. His joy of his current space though was the chair he’d built himself that was big enough for two to lay comfortably. He’d hoped that one day it would be himself and Aziraphale laying in it, but after today his hopes for such an event were dashed. Thousands of years of pining only to be dumped down the drain in a flash. He let his boss tenderly guide him to the chair before she made quick work of trying to make him comfortable. She gingerly untied his shoes and laid them aside before taking his hat and hanging it up. She pursed her lip at him in thought, “You want the jacket off too? Maybe zzome scotch?”

Crowley couldn’t help but chuckle and tuck in to the chair, “I’ll take off my coat, I have glasses for the scotch in the cabinet.”

While she shuffled to his liquor cabinet, he took off his jacket and laid it over the arm of the closest chair. He turned his attention back to Beelzebub, seeing her pour him and herself a drink. He tucked his feet under him and sighed as she sat at the foot of the chair. She offered him the glass she’d poured first, “Here, drink up. Mind if I zzit with you?”

Crowley felt his chest constrict at the question, when was the last time someone had asked about his boundaries? He found himself nodding and a swell of relief bloomed in his chest when Beelzebub scooted into the spot next to him. He let himself tuck into her side and he exhaled softly, “I had an.. An angel, in my life. Thought he’d eventually come around, want to be with me. We fought, said thingsss we didn’t mean years ago and today I saw him again.”

Beelzebub’s fingers began to work their way through his short hair and he closed his eyes at the sensation of her dulled claws against his scalp. “I take it zzeeing him today went awry?”

Crowley barked out a sad laugh, “Oi, you have no idea. I was rude, said something about fraternizing and he just.. He was hurt, so I bought flowers for him- to apologize.” He felt his hands begin to shake despite holding the glass, “He was kissing a human when I went to bring them to him. Picked a bloody human over someone that could live a full life with him! What doess that human have that I don’t?”

Beelzebub snapped her fingers and their drinks miracled to Crowley’s table in the middle of the room, though demonic miracles meant no coasters were under them. She let Crowley lay down a bit more, his head resting on her lap as her fingers coursed through his hair still. “You aren’t the only demon to have your hopes dashed by an angel, I can promizze that. You aren’t alone, it hurts but you have zzupport.”

Crowley felt his eyes water as he processed that information and his breath hitched, “Who was it for you? You understand how I feel, so who-“

Beelzebub gave him a sad smile as she kept stroking her fingers through his hair, “Archangel Gabriel, God’s glorified messenger pigeon. We were together before the Fall, but after he couldn’t bring himself to be with a demon. It was on and off, me wanting and him fighting with himself. I ended it for good after a while and it hurt zzo much then.. Ligur too, he was with Michael for the longest time. Her secret back channel.” Beelzebub pursed her lips then, pondering, “She left him, now she and Gabriel are together. It’s hard when you dedicate your life to zzomeone, but it gets better when you aren’t alone. Which, you aren’t.”

Crowley turned his head a bit to look up at Beelzebub, meeting her soft gaze as she looked down at him, “Thank you. Will you stay with me? I just want to sleep and not wake up to an empty house. ”

Beelzebub chuckled a bit and she nodded, her fingers going back to play in Crowley’s hair, “I’ll ztay as long as you need, little Star Maker.”

—1887—

‘As long as Crowley needed’ turned into Beelzebub casually moving bits of her office into Crowley’s home over the span of a few months. It comforted him, knowing someone was there with him when he woke up. Beelzebub didn’t mind sleeping on his couch and enjoyed having fresh coffee every morning with him, even if Crowley didn’t drink any himself. Work didn’t stop because the Prince of Hell needed a location shift, so a channel for Dagon to pass the paperwork through was set up behind some of Crowley’s plants. 

It became an almost peaceful routine that Crowley had once envisioned with Aziraphale, but instead became a reality with Beelzebub. They had known one another for thousands of years as it was, but he had never thought he’d trust someone enough to see him at his best and worst. 

It was for that exact reason that he found himself hunkering in his bathroom a few weeks later, his hands pulling at his hair as he slid to the floor. He pressed his back against the tub and tried to breathe, his chest pounding as the thoughts swirled in his mind. He felt his skin along his arms, rough from the intrusion of shiny black scales, and nearly wept. Pulling his knees to his chest, he felt tears pooling in his eyes and he finally let out a sob. There were days when Crowley, Earth’s first tempter, hated himself. Hated his body, hated the intrusive thoughts that swirled through his mind, hated-

He felt himself pulled from his trance by gentle hands touching his knees. He slowly looked up and saw Beelzebub, her blue eyes soft and filled with worry. She whispered, “Focuzz on my breathing, alright? Breathe in.” 

He found himself inhaling as she did, then exhaling. _Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale-_

He caught his breath, felt a little less like he was floating. He let his eyes close and he let out a shaky sigh, “Thank you…”

Beelzebub carefully sat next to him and she murmured, “What do you need? What can I do?”

Crowley opened his eyes, amber filling up most of his sclera. He slowly turned and tucked into her side, letting his head rest against her chest. He could feel her heart thumping in her chest and let the beat soothe him. Her fingers came up to rest in his hair, working gentle circles against his scalp. He found his voice, though his speech impediment was shining through from his stress, “Ssstay with me? I don’t want to be alone.”

Beelzebub nodded and ran her fingers through his hair still, watching as his breathing evened out. Anxieties were something she understood and if he needed to just be held then she’d be the one to help him through it. She watched as his scales, black with a red shine, began to slowly fade from the surface of his skin. It brought a bit of a smile to her lips, knowing the Serpent of Eden’s walls weren’t as high with her as the walls he’d once scaled.

—1896—

It wasn’t for another handful of years that Crowley had the chance to see his flat mate at her worst. Beelzebub was one to hide her issues until they bubbled over. It was the price of being so high on Hell’s totem pole, weaknesses weren’t allowed, even if they were caused by jobs done for Lucifer himself.

Crowley was in his home, having just finished changing out some old furniture for something more comfortable. Beelzebub was one to nap on his couch and hadn’t said anything about being uncomfortable, but Crowley knew when the old couch was finally in need of a change. He looked to the door as he heard the knob rattle, but then frowned when there was just a _thunk_ against the wood instead of Beelzebub walking in as she normally did. Had she forgotten her keys?

He moved to open the door and gasped in surprise when Beelzebub fell into him, her breath coming in sharp pants. He wrapped his arms around her and urgently led her inside, “Bee, what happened? Where are you hurt?”

Beelzebub shook her head and covered her mouth with her hand, still leaning against him for support. Crowley’s eyes widened before he hurried her to the bathroom, stepping out when she knelt in front of the toilet. He steeled himself and took a breath before stepping back into the black tiled bathroom to pull her hair from her face so she could puke.

For having a stomach made of steel and forged in Hellfire, Beelzebub puked often. Some jobs were often upsetting to her stomach, the sins prone to giving the demon of gluttony acid reflux. He knew this one was worse than normal, her shoulders were hunched with pain. He let her vomit and gag until she was finished before carefully using a ribbon he had in his pocket to tie her hair back in a ponytail. He’d always preferred to have a functioning toilet, so with a bit of a demonic miracle it was clean again. Crowley moved to fill up the cup he kept on the sink with water before he nudged her gently, sliding the glass between her cold fingers. “Beelzebub, wings out for me.”

She frowned at that, sipping at the water he’d given her, “No. I’m fine.”

“Beelzebub, you’re hurting so badly you threw up. I need to see them, otherwise I can’t help.”

She paused at that, looking at the glass in her hands before she nodded and shifted in her seat. The room expanded on its own, making room for the four wings that spread from her back. Crowley sucked in a deep breath. Beelzebub’s wings were black with deep, blood red tips. Usually they were full of excellently groomed plumage with a few spots from scar tissue, but now there were chunks missing on each wing. In place of those elegant feathers were leathery burnt patches. It made Crowley shudder at the sight, “Bee.. Where did this mission send you?”

Beelzebub closed her eyes in shame as Crowley pulled the first injured wing into his lap and began to gently groom her wing, careful of the patches, “I had to tempt some priests, Lucifer only sends the strongest demons to enter churchezz.”

Crowley’s frown deepened, knowing that meant her feet were likely burnt too. “How did your wings get so hurt? They shouldn’t have been out.”

Beelzebub shuddered when Crowley pulled a few damaged feathers and she shakily sipped at her water, “I could handle the blessing from the priest, that wazz fine. Even that little bit of holy water wazzn’t the worst, but Sandalphon showed up as I wazz leaving. I wazz burning, he came at me. He grabbed my wings when I tried to take off.”

Crowley exhaled softly and he looked at the demon before him, letting herself be vulnerable with him. It was touching, the amount of trust going on inside the small room. Crowley finished with the first wing before he tucked it back into the other plane. Then he leaned over and kissed her forehead, watching as her eyes fluttered shut at his affection. “Let me take care of you this time, okay?”

Beelzebub smiled a little, her dark circles under her eyes a bit more prominent now that he was looking. Crowley felt a rush of the need to _protect_ , and so he pulled Beelzebub’s second wing into his lap as she whispered, “Okay.”

—1907—

It was Halloween, Beelzebub’s favorite holiday. She had been living on the surface with Crowley for over twenty years now, causing mischief with him- well, her for tonight, when both found the inspiration for it. Tonight Crowley had other things on her mind. She and Beelzebub had decided tonight would be the night they ran off together, enjoying the holiday as a married pair instead of just partners. Crowley hadn’t felt so strongly about anyone since Aziraphale. She’d dropped a knee and proposed just days before and Beelzebub had laughed with pure joy as she’d said yes. Afterall, it wasn’t like they weren’t married already by how they lived. This was just making it official.

She fixed her dress, fitted black with sheer sleeves. Crowley had wanted her snake sigil to be weaved in, so the seamstress had managed to sew it in to be wrapping up both of her arms. She had a slit up the thighs of her dress and her bright red hair cascading down her back in regal curls. She fixed her mascara and exhaled slowly, her giddiness bubbling in her gut, before she turned and walked from her room and outside.

Now, Archangel Gabriel and Dagon, Lord of the Files, stood at the altar to officiate and bear witness to their wedding. Gabriel had been nothing but happy for Beelzebub, being a supportive friend to her even after their past. Crowley felt warm inside just thinking about it, how the two of them could have been so lucky with the friends they had.

Beelzebub hadn’t wanted to walk down the aisle to Crowley, no that wouldn’t do. Instead, she had it set up to where she and Crowley would meet together in front of Gabriel, walking down an aisle from both the right and left sides. They would walk down separate aisles at the same time, as Beelzebub had said, “I’m walking in alone, but leaving with you.”

They had no music, just the chirping of the crickets as they walked to one another under the stars Crowley had once created and hung. It was Crowley’s first time seeing Beelzebub in this type of dress, but seeing her in the black lace nearly stole her breath away. Her dress had lace sleeves and a lace collar, the lace being made to look like flies flying together. Beelzebub’s hair was loose and short, a braid pinned like a crown around her head. She was even holding some fresh flowers, much to Crowley’s surprise. Crowley had always loved flowers, loved them even more when Beelzebub slid the bouquet into her hands when they met in the middle. Gabriel smiled warmly at her as both she and Beelzebub linked hands in front of him. He softly asked them both, “Ready?”

Beelzebub nodded, her grin spreading cheek to cheek, “I’m ready.”

Crowley laughed softly, her curls bobbing in the breeze, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Their night truly began when they said, “I do” and sealed the words with a sweet kiss.

—1974—

The apartment was dark but warm. The heat of the place took Aziraphale off guard, he knew Crowley was often too warm despite being a snake. He made his way deeper into the bare apartment, noting the empty cat bed that was in the windowsill. Had Crowley grown fond of cats in the time they’d been apart? Surely not, he’d have told Aziraphale if he had! Right? Right.

Holding the full tartan thermos, he stepped over a heap of black clothing on the floor and tiptoed his way into Crowley’s bedroom, trying his best to not make too much noise if Crowley was sleeping. He knew how much his wiley serpent loved sleep, so he was hoping to wake him up with the news and peace offering. The ‘holiest of holy’ holy water, straight from Upstairs. What better way to try and mend their relationship? At least, that was what he thought until he looked in the room. 

He could have never anticipated seeing Lord Beelzebub, one of the highest ranking demons, wrapped up and sleeping in Crowley’s blankets. His eyes took in her form, her bare shoulders and chest rising and falling shallowly as she slept. He felt himself grow angry, jealousy twisting like a knife in his gut. How could Crowley replace him, especially with his boss? He moved further into the room and swallowed when Beelzebub’s eyes fluttered open. She buzzed tiredly and lifted her head, like a cat waking up from a nap, “Crowley?”

Oh, Aziraphale hated her. Hated even more when she sat up and pulled the blanket over her bare chest in surprise. What cemented his loathing for her more was the glint of the wedding band on her finger. What had he missed in the years since Oscar’s death?

Beelzebub was watching him warily, inching further away from him on the bed, “Aziraphale? Crowley isn’t here. You shouldn’t be either, I don’t take kindly to angelzz hovering over me while I sleep.”

“Ah, my apologies. I was just- Bringing Crowley a gift, I thought it was better to do it in person.” There was a nagging little whisper in his ear, almost begging him to open the thermos. _The holiest of holy water would vanquish even the highest of demons, it wouldn’t even take the whole bottle._ Oh what a thought, turning the archdemon into a puddle of goo in her own- no, in _Crowley’s_ bed. He found himself twisting the cap loose, just a bit.

“Well, you’re welcome to leave it here. Crowley izz off on a mission, he’ll be home later.” Beelzebub’s voice was a bit buzzy with sleep, her large fly symbiote was resting on Crowley’s pillow. That would explain the cat bed then, it was likely for Beezie. She exhaled a bit and slid her legs over the side of the bed, putting her socked feet on the floor while trying to keep herself covered. Of all things, he hadn’t anticipated her being modest. He never considered that a married demon, regardless of her status, simply wanted only her partner’s eyes on her. “He talkzz somewhat fondly of you, I don’t know if he’ll be happy to see you though. I think you should go and come back when he’zz here.”

His fingers twitched again and this time, he unscrewed the cap completely. She was pretty without her boils and buzzing flies, she must have bewitched Crowley! Yes, surely _his_ friend wouldn’t choose another demon over himself. He wanted more though, needed to know how long it had been going on for them so he spoke surely, “Tell me, how long have you been married?”

Beelzebub’s body language shifted from nervous to defensive when he unscrewed the second cap on the inside, she was far too familiar with the smell of holy things from past temptations of priests to not recognize the stench of potent holy water. She watched him closely now, eyes shifting just enough for him to recognize she was trying to find another way out of the room. He wondered if she’d fight him if it came down to it.

“We’ve been married for about a hundred years, we took our time. Archangel Gabriel officiated.” She drew the blanket higher and turned to fully face him, looking ready to bolt.

He tightened his grip on the thermos, “Well, I’ve known him far longer than what you two have been married for. It won’t do to have him tied down to you, you’re as filthy as it gets when it comes to demons. If I get you out of the picture, he’ll fall into my arms again.”

She exhaled slowly, feeling her fingers twitch with the urge to use a miracle. Her ears pricked, hearing the familiar sound of a car parking outside. The Bentley was never quiet, it loved to announce when it had arrived. She just needed to hold him off until Crowley could get inside, “He won’t, we’ve been together since you left him for Ozzcar Wilde. You hurt him then, he moved on. It would be bezzt if you did too.”

Aziraphale grimaced at her and watched as she finally made a move to snap her fingers, Beezie flipping off the pillow and onto the floor with a jolt. Of course she’d try to keep her fly safe. “We’ll just have to test that then, won’t we?” 

Then he jerked his arm forward, taking the thermos and splashing it directly into the demon in front of him. She made to pull the blanket up further, quick as a cat, but the majority of the liquid managed to splatter all over her right arm. Aziraphale had never heard such a pained scream in all his time on Earth, it was enough to shake the room. Beelzebub’s screams were like hoards upon hoards of flies, the agony in her voice rattling him to his core and oh lord the smell, he had never smelled such foul, burning flesh-

She fell to the floor in a heap, pushing the wet blanket off of her and doing her best to put distance between her and Aziraphale. Her arm was smoldering, cracks of white weaving up her skin and to her neck as her entire essence _burned._ It was sickening, even for Aziraphale. He hadn’t wanted her to suffer! He just wanted her _gone_ , out of the way!

It was at that moment Crowley burst into the room, his black claws drawn, teeth sharp and his eyes exposed. They were almost wild looking, so yellow and slitted tightly. Aziraphale barely had time to back up before Crowley was rounding on him, screeching like an animal. 

“Crowley! Crowley it’s me! Aziraphale!” The angel tried to plead, but the recognition almost made it harder to bear. Crowley’s eyes narrowed even more at him before he looked over to Beelzebub, his wife gasping and weeping against the wall in the corner of the room. She was exposed and pleading, her voice so soft yet raw from the pain, “Crowley, Crowley pleazze..”

He moved to her, stepping over the holy water covered blanket and he dropped by her side. Carefully, his fingers touched at her wounds. He looked at Aziraphale and snarled, “Did you do this? Did you do this to her?!”

Aziraphale inhaled sharply before he nodded, shuffling backwards to the door, “She was in your bed! You were snooping around for holy water, I assumed she was a threat!”

It was a lie and a bold faced one at that, but Crowley would only know if Beelzebub survived long enough to tell him. Aziraphale tightened his hold on the thermos, the remaining water sloshing inside. Beelzebub curled tighter into Crowley’s side at the mere sound and Crowley pulled her into his lap, his wings unfurling defensively, “Angel, put down that thermos. She is no threat to me, she’s my wife!”

He was running out of time, he could see it in how the white began to branch up Beelzebub’s neck and along the right side of her chest. He had been a healer once, it was time to see if he could still save her. With as much urgency as possible, he pulled Beelzebub further into his arms and stood. He clutched her even tighter to his chest and dove past Aziraphale. The angel hardly had the time to react, letting the demons rush past him without much of a fight. He entirely missed the large fly shuffling past him to follow Crowley as he dove through a hidden portal behind a plant in the living room. It was only afterward Crowley could no longer be felt in the apartment that Aziraphale truly felt alone, realizing that maybe, just _maybe_ , he had made a mistake.

Crowley, on the other hand, had burst through Hell and landed right on Beelzebub’s clutter filled desk. He wasted no time in scrabbling around, throwing the piles of crusty papers onto the floor. Beelzebub’s breathing had grown hoarse from the pain and she’d been slipping in and out of consciousness since she’d been in his arms. He laid her flat on the desk and whimpered softly, taking in the damage. He watched as Beezie fell through the portal after them and he tucked into the Prince’s side, ever the loyal fly. Crowley sucked in a deep breath before he let his fingers glow, tapping into a power he had been afraid to use ever since he’d fallen. Raphael, healer of many and creator of the stars. How he’d once longed to forget who he was and who he had been, but now he was grateful he remembered. It would save Beelzebub’s life. He found himself looking to the ceiling and he rasped, “Please Mother, one last time, please help me!”

With that, he pressed his glowing fingers into Beelzebub’s wounds. He watched as she convulsed and screamed, her voice echoing with the buzzing of hundreds of flies behind it. His powers were growing, his eyes glowing white as he forced the holy energy _out_ the same way it came in. It was searing her essence all over again, cauterizing the webbing of holy channels it had carved into her corporation until finally, finally, her screams stopped and she lay almost deathly still against her wooden desk.

Dagon pushed the door open with a shudder and she looked in nervously, “Sir? Crowley?”

Crowley folded all six of his wings away and rasped in exhaustion to the fish demon, “Dagon, we need to.. We need to move her. Help me tuck her in. My quarters, she’ll be comfortable there.”

Dagon opened the door more and took in the sight of the demon laying on the desk before her. She frowned then, nose wrinkling as she sniffed before she looked at Crowley. “She’s still bleeding, I can smell it.” She moved closer, like an animal stalking her prey, before she stilled. Beelzebub had stirred awake and slowly turned onto her uninjured side, curling into a pained ball as she began to weep, “Oh no, no no no-“

Dagon turned back to Crowley and spread her own wings, her devotion for her Prince overriding that Crowley had a right to be in the room as his partner struggled. “Out! Out, I’ll tend to her but out!”

Crowley backed out of the room slowly, eyes full of fear as Dagon turned and carefully touched Beelzebub’s heaving side. The last thing he heard as the door slammed shut on it’s own accord was Beelzebub’s soft, “I’m zzo zorry-”

—

He could see her tucked into his bed from his spot by the door, huddled under his blankets for warmth. They were made of angel down, he'd made it for her as a courting gift. He felt a little less guilty over plucking a younger angel's wings for it now. Dagon had moved Beelzebub to his own quarters in Hell on her own, the room hadn’t been used in over a century yet stayed miraculously clean. He had nearly worn a hole into the floor outside the door from all his pacing, but Dagon hadn’t let him in until now. 

The door opened slowly, almost sadly, and Dagon nudged her way out of the room. Her eyes and demeanor were full of sorrow as she spoke, shoulders slumped and head bowed, "She'll have to sleep the rest off, there isn't any more I can do. You stalled the spread, she'll live but.. She's weeping. She bled quite a lot, too." The scaled demon shifted in place, eyes looking to the floor, "She just kept apologizing, she blames herself. Go slow, Crowley."

Right, yes. Going too fast had led to a lot of bad things, but he could tread carefully here. Beelzebub was his wife, he could respect boundaries. With a nod, he pushed past Dagon and quietly slid to Beelzebub's side, laying on top of the blanket so he could gingerly pet her uninjured hip. She was nude again, but smelling thickly of soap and antiseptic. He hated it, hated how she didn’t smell of her normal vanilla and honey but he knew it wasn’t her fault. Keeping his voice soft, he asked, "Ba'al? My sweet Eveningstar, look at me."

He loved the name, remembered the last time he used it. It had been different then, he'd kissed the words into her skin as she let him inside her walls, pressed into the sheets of their bed. She’d purred at the love in his tone, let it carry her through any pleasure he’d been willing to give. Now they held a different weight, a tone of concern lacing his tongue as he tried to understand the underlying meaning to Dagon's words.

Beelzebub tucked herself into a tighter ball instead, her cries soft but present. He felt her shaking and it broke his heart. He could see the lines, white and burning despite his healing, from where they snaked up her arm to her neck. They’d dim and dull over time, but likely never fade. They should have killed her, but her will to survive helped her stay alive long enough for him to heal her. It made him angry though, to think the skin he loved to kiss and touch so softly had been hurt so graphically. He'd kill Aziraphale the next time he saw him.

For now though, now was about keeping her safe so she could recover. He held her tighter and whispered, “Bee, please? Talk to me.”

She was still shaking, her voice cracking as she finally spoke, “I lozzt him.” 

Crowley began to run his fingers through her hair, trying to settle her shaking. He noted Beezie at the foot of the bed and he shook his head, “No, Sweet. Beezie is fine, he’s by your feet.”

“Not him,” She was crying anew, thick tears streaming down her cheeks, “I.. I mizzed my flow two monthzz in a row. I wazz going to tell you when I took a tezt but..”

Crowley stiffened as he processed the news. He had been a father, was going to have a baby and in one fell swoop Aziraphale had snatched that away from him. They had been trying for decades to conceive, Crowley hadn’t been able to get pregnant when he’d tried and Beelzebub had been struggling. Now they’d had a chance and it had been dashed. Crowley swallowed the pain in his chest and he carefully turned Beelzebub to lay on her back. He wanted to see her face, “You know thiss isn’t your fault, right? You did everything you could and you’re alive for it, that alone is enough.”

Beelzebub shook her head and wiped her cheeks with her left hand. She sat up slowly, wincing in pain, and drew away from him. He wanted to hold her, but the look in her bloodshot eyes told him not to reach for her. “Why were you zzniffing around for holy water? You know what that zztuff doez to uzz!”

He pressed his lips into a flat line and ran his fingers over the downy blanket, “Does it matter why I wanted it?” The moment he said those words, he regretted them. 

It was instantaneous. Beelzebub looked like he’d struck her and she leaned further away from him. The motion almost seemed _wrong_ , she never leaned away from him. She was buzzing so strongly from the stress that her voice echoed, “Doezzn’t matter? After thiz? Of course it matterz! Are you that unhappy with the way thingz are that you need a way out?” Her voice broke at the end, much like how his heart felt like it was breaking. 

He ran his fingers through his hair slowly and shook his head, “You aren’t the reason, okay? Demons don’t trust other demons, that's just how things are. You’re the exception to that, you’re my partner.”

“Then why?” She looked so tired, he could hardly blame her.

Crowley opened his arms for her and almost cried in relief when she slowly shifted to lay in his arms, repositioning so her good side was against his chest. He could feel the pain and exhaustion radiating off of her. He kissed her head as she settled and shut his eyes, “I needed the extra assurance that if something happened, I could be prepared. It was for if another demon came for us, if holy water could hurt you so badly then it could hurt another demon even more. You’d be safe, I’d be safe.”

“Have you thought of leaving me?” Beelzebub’s words were heavy, he knew what she meant. Divorces between demons weren’t commonplace simply because demons hardly married. Suicides amongst demons weren’t unheard of, but by holy water? No demon had ever gone out in such a way intentionally. Honesty was something he and Beelzebub had promised one another when their relationship began, he wouldn’t fall back on it now. He sucked in a deep breath, “Before we were together, I’d thought of it. I had some dark times, but I would never leave you now. Especially not with holy water. I’ll dump what I got down the drain to prove it, I’ll never touch the stuff again.”

Beelzebub looked up at him tiredly and swallowed thickly. She held up her left pinky finger to him, “Promise me?”

Crowley linked his pinky finger with hers before he kissed her head again, “I promise.” 

Promises between them were sincere, he meant it with every fiber of his being. He guided them back into a laying down position, feeling her slipping off into her dreams. She needed them, needed to give her body and essence a rest after her tussle with the divine. Their relationship had been tested, but Crowley knew there was still going to be lingering doubt left in the wake of the day’s events. It was only after her breathing evened out that Crowley let himself cry, mourning all that he’d lost and all that he could have due to an angel he once called a friend.

—1979–

Crowley missed the figure leaning against the door as he opened the letter in his hands. He made a disgusted face at the golden ink and crumpled the letter, dropping it into the small hellfire pit on the table. Finally, he turned and made eye contact with his partner. She was leaning against the door frame, just watching him. She was back in her suit, her hair longer than it had been in awhile. It was free from tangles and flowing down her back, Crowley knew he’d never tire of the sight.

“Thought you had a meeting today with the other princes?” He’d been residing over her duties almost diligently since she’d had to recover from the Holy water. She’d been so ill that she hadn’t been able to rule, so to keep her circle in order he’d stepped into the role and gone over things with her alone after meetings. They had been like a well oiled machine over the past few years and Crowley had made sure she had never been alone since then. Her screams haunted his nightmares still.

“We finished early, Mammon got what she wanted and Leviathan expanded his portal in the Bermuda Triangle. Says he likes when the planes fall from the sky because of the interference.” She folded her arms over her chest, the now black spider webs of her wounds still visible on her hand and up her neck. Crowley wished he could have done more. “Why are you burning letters?”

“Oh, that.” He paused, tested the words he wanted to say in his mind first, “It was from Heaven, particularly from an angel I want no business with any longer.”

“Aziraphale is writing you letters?” The surprise in her tone was evident, he had kept it a secret that Aziraphale had been writing him apology letters for the past few months. He wasn’t a fan of keeping secrets, truthfully he’d ignored most of the letters until now.

He sat back in the chair by the desk and sighed, opening his arms for her to come and rest in his lap. She made no fuss as she crossed the room and slid into his lap, letting his nose go to the crook of her neck to inhale her scent. She smelled more like herself now and he reveled in the fact. “He’s been trying to meet to apologize. I want nothing to do with him, not after what he did.”

“He meant something to you, it's okay to mourn what you lost in him.” Her fingers were cool as she ran them through his hair.

Crowley found himself sighing in relief, “You’ve always got such cold fingers, Eveningstar. Give them here.”

He sat back and cupped his warmer fingers around her smaller, cooler ones. She hummed in appreciation and rested against him, “You’ve protected me these past few years, I think it’s time we took care of you now. Dagon found a therapist on the surface, one Freddie can vouch for that’s good. I think you should see her.”

Crowley inhaled sharply at that, looking at their hands instead of at Beelzebub’s eyes. He knew she was right and only wanted to help, he was tired of having dreams of Beelzebub weeping his name, “Can I think on it?”

She hummed again and leaned in to bump her forehead to his, “That’s all I can ask, isn’t it?”

Crowley was familiar with her bunting, the touching of foreheads. For being a demon based on flies, Beelzebub had quite a few cat behaviors. The main one was her wanting ‘bonks’ instead of kisses, she found them more intimate and just as affectionate. He hardly complained, unless she bonked his head too hard by mistake, it was part of her love language. “I’ll think about it then and I’ll let you know.”

He chuckled softly when she purred in response.

—1983—

He was stalking away, making sure to keep a brisk pace. He was late as it was and the angel tailing him was only making it worse. He turned a corner but found himself halting when there was a hand on his elbow. Crowley growled and turned to face Aziraphale, the angel looking worse for wear. Life had not been kind to him since he’d been out of Crowley’s contact it seemed. He was in tartan, but the usual tan he’d always adorned was a dark blue. Crowley could sense there was something amiss with this angel’s essence, but who was he to pry.

“Crowley, please! Please, just a moment of your time and I’ll let you be!” Aziraphale was pleading and Crowley hated the ever so slight softness he had for it. He was already late for dinner, but Beelzebub would understand when he told her. After all, his counselor would be impressed he’d finally confronted one of his issues.

“You have three minutes, Aziraphale. No more, I’m running behind and someone is waiting for me.” He looked at his watch and nodded to Aziraphale, his sunglasses sliding down his nose just a tad, his time had started.

“I just- I just needed to tell you in person. How sorry I am, you didn’t answer any of my letters-“

“Chose not to, I burned them after awhile. You couldn’t take the hint that I didn’t want to see you?” Crowley was tired and trying to not lose his patience. He shifted in his spot, knowing Beelzebub was entertaining Freddie currently without him. He hoped she’d at least put Beezie away, that fly was a menace when he was on a diet and Freddie never had the heart to not feed him table scraps. 

“I know the last time we saw one another, it wasn’t a good situation but- Oh, Crowley, I’ve missed you terribly so. Anything I can do to set things right, anything at all I will do but please don’t cut me out!” The angel was desperate, Crowley could smell it, but he was unwavering in his decision. He needed to do what was best for his partner and himself, not what was best for an angel who was repenting. 

“No, see, I don’t think you get it.” Crowley pulled the glasses off his face and hissed, forked tongue flicking out to show he was serious. “You could have cost me everything. I am not a side piece for you to come back to when you please, you picked Oscar over me. It’s not my fault you’re alone now, I waited thousands of years for you! And you know what you did for me? You took away part of my family, you nearly killed my wife where she slept in our bed!” 

His scales were protruding up his neck, eyes turning into slits. It was scaring Aziraphale, he could see it, but maybe that was just what he needed to see that Crowley wasn’t joking around anymore. “And to make it worse, she was pregnant. Two months, almost three. I found out when she lost the baby on the very table I healed her on. Do you even know what that’s like, having someone you love weeping apologies for something they couldn’t save? She cried for months over it! We’d been trying for decades! You ruined that for me! For us!”

Aziraphale was crying now, his shoulders slumped as he hugged himself. This angel was not his own anymore, Crowley couldn’t find it in him to be angry about what he’d said. He sniffed again, smelling a hint of sulfur. Shrugging it off, he pushed the glasses back up on his face as Aziraphale spoke, “My dear, I’m so so sorry-“

“Sorry doesn’t really cut it, Aziraphale. What you and I had is gone, we are _nothing_ now. I don’t want to see you again. I don’t wish anything bad onto you but this isn’t just me not wanting to be your friend anymore. This is me setting a boundary, a healthy one for myself.” He checked his watch again and shrugged, “Three minutes is up, don’t follow me.”

He stalked off with that, pushing past Aziraphale and leaving the angel to cry on the sidewalk. He couldn’t shake the scent of sulfur until he was home, but by then it was hardly a thought. After all, the Prince of Hell in an apron and his best friend sitting at the table was more than enough to cheer him up.

—2011–

Armageddon had come and gone within the span of moments. Adam had chosen, with some heavy persuasion on Crowley’s behalf, to not end the world. Beelzebub had even supported him, the two demons determined to ruin the End of the World simply because they liked what they had built in a world run by humans. Crowley couldn’t be more grateful for it, because it seemed when Adam had reset everything he’d also happened to reset Beelzebub’s monthly ovulation. They hadn’t been actively trying, merely celebrating the world not ending, but he had been so overjoyed when after she had held up a positive pregnancy test to him. That had been a few months ago, now. He’d spun her around and kissed her oh so sweetly when she’d told him, it was like the world couldn’t have been more right.

Now, he was kneeling in the baby room they’d put together themselves. He had finished setting up the crib and was holding a box that had no name or return address on it. Crowley knew who it was from, they’d received gifts from everyone else months prior at the baby shower. Beelzebub had been mildly terrified when Lucifer himself had showed up to the baby shower, but he’d brought gifts and food like everyone else. Who knew their boss would be so excited over a little fallen baby? They were the first fallen angels to conceive, so perhaps they shouldn’t have been so surprised.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Crowley used a box cutter to peel open the tape on the box. It hadn’t been wrapped, but as Crowley opened it he felt his throat catch. Inside was a familiar, dark blue tartan that he’d know anywhere. Inside was a simple note, _‘I hope this finds you well, Dear Boy. I heard the news and couldn’t be more happy for you, I hope this serves you well. I won’t bother you again, I wish you only the best. -Aziraphale’_

Crowley pulled the blanket from the box and sniffed it, the slight tang of sulfur present even now. He wondered if Aziraphale had fallen, or perhaps just lost faith in Heaven. It happened to even the best angels, after all. He would know, Raphael had loved the humans so much he’d sauntered down from the stars. He ran his fingers over the blue blanket before he looked up, seeing Beelzebub waddle to the doorway and lean against the frame. The room was dark, but the hall light was illuminating her figure from behind. She rubbed a hand over her swollen belly and gave him a warm smile, “Are you alright in here? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

Crowley inhaled sharply and looked back at the blanket in his hand. He stood and gently placed the blanket on the crib railing before turning back to Beelzebub. He knew this was what he wanted, this was his future. It may have been hard to get to the happiness he’d found now, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. Aziraphale was a figment of his past, not a defining moment of it. His future, all his progress, had been made to lead up to this. Making his way over to her, he ran his fingers over her belly, feeling his daughter kicking quite angrily at his hand, “I’ve never been better, Love. How do you feel about a little living room dancing?”

Beelzebub laughed and nodded, taking his hand and pulling him down the hall. He noted her feet were socked as usual and her fingers were as cold as ice. The touch was familiar, had become welcoming, “Come on, I know a song we can play.”

A nightingale may not have sang in Berkeley Square, but a songbird sang for them that night just outside their window. For Crowley and Beelzebub, it was a sign of their happy ending. 

**Author's Note:**

> This story has an interesting take on these characters because they aren’t really canon in how they act, they’re a healthy relationship because they’re based off of my partner and I. There is a lot of us in this story, but sometimes that’s what you need when it comes to emotional support characters.


End file.
